


why does my heart feel so bad?

by ficfacfoe



Category: UnREAL (TV)
Genre: F/F, Kingsgold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 14:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14427891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfacfoe/pseuds/ficfacfoe
Summary: what if alexi had already left when rachel went to his room after dr simon rejected her? where else would she go? thats it thats the whole fic





	why does my heart feel so bad?

**Author's Note:**

> i am sorry in advance, thanks syd for editing and screaming, youre a true friend

All Rachel knows is she’s been celibate for countless months.

So when Dr. Simon refuses her advances, she storms into Alexi’s room, but he’s gone. Halfway to Russia already. Rachel’s head is spinning and her heart is pounding, she’s sick of talking, she’s sick of dealing with her problems, so many problems.

She just wants a release, some easy, dirty fun. There is only one other room left where the lights are still on.

Quinn can’t give her that, Rachel knows, but her mind betrays her and goes to Quinn _giving her that_ , and Rachel’s body flushes with more heat.

If she’s honest, Fiona’s presence has been giving Rachel ideas, images of Quinn’s strong arms around a woman’s body, and it burns. Something about it feels wrong, worse than Quinn with a man. The night she had tried to talk to Quinn but then Quinn had turned her back on Rachel and jumped into a car with Fiona, she had pictured all sorts of things for many sleepless hours.

The door to Quinn’s office is unlocked, light shining through from the other side. Rachel opens it, then locks it behind herself.

“You got a second?”

Quinn looks up from behind a brightly gleaming computer screen, skin reflecting the cold light but somehow radiating nothing short of warmth.

“Rachel.” She smiles, curiosity mixed with something that has the air tasting of iron. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Quinn asks, glancing at the locked door for a split second like prey scanning its surroundings for an escape plan. Rachel takes a deep breath.

“Quinn...” It sounds like a question, like a request.

She stalks over to where Quinn is sitting, eyes sparkling with intensity that can’t be mistaken for anything less harmless than animalistic desire.

“Rachel…” Quinn warns, almost toppling out of her chair as she gets up to stagger backwards, away from Rachel’s wild expression. The smell of vodka oozes thickly between their breaths. Quinn is gripping the back of her chair, pulling it between them like a shield. Rachel laughs.

“Come on, Quinn,” she purrs, sliding one of her hands over Quinn’s. “Don’t reject me.” She blinks, tears welling up involuntarily in her big eyes. Her voice is still all seduction, but her facade is crumbling. Everything has been happening so fast and so inevitably, Rachel hadn’t even thought about Quinn saying no to her. Because she hadn’t bothered to think at all. Now, her stomach sinks. Quinn is staring at Rachel’s hand covering her own in wonder.

“Reject you?” Quinn scoffs, a half willed laugh combined with a look of sincere worry. “What are you talking about?” And then it dawns on Quinn, and the woman’s face falls. “Oh, no, no, no,” she starts, “this is not healthy. You need to figure out how to control yourself, Rachel-”

“Don’t,” Rachel interrupts. “Don’t do this, not you.” Quinn’s skin is burning under Rachel’s palm. She steps closer, gives her best pleading look from under heavy lids, drags her hand over Quinn’s wrist, up her arm. “You’re the only one I have left.”

She swallows hard at her own words, unprepared to find an admission in her advances. Quinn finally lets go of the chair, stops Rachel’s hands from moving, taking them in her own.

“That’s too much,” Quinn says, “You don’t... you don’t have to do this, Rachel…”

The back of Rachel’s throat feels raw. Quinn’s rejection stings behind her eyes. “Yeah, I know,” Rachel mutters under her breath, and one last real thing. “But I want to.”

Quinn squeezes her hands. Gives her what is meant to be an apologetic look, but Rachel can see the redness to Quinn’s cheeks. “No you don’t, you’re just lonely and you think you need-”

“Don’t, Quinn. Don’t tell me what I need. You don’t know what I need.”

“No, I don’t.”

Rachel frees one of her hands from Quinn’s grip, watches the woman’s eyes flutter shut in slow motion and touches Quinn’s warm cheek. She really wasn’t planning on having a big talk when she made the impromptu decision to stop by Quinn’s office. Rachel tries to gather up the mind numbing momentum she’d had earlier. Quinn’s eyes blink open and she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. It kicks Rachel’s brain back into overdrive.

Deliberately, she lets her gaze linger on Quinn’s mouth, then she states, blankly, “Well, I need you. Right now.”

Quinn’s lips are a thin line, eyes closed again. And then, “Rachel, not like this…”

It tugs at something deep inside Rachel’s chest, harder than a simple no. Because it’s not a no. She still has her hand on Quinn’s cheek.

“Why not?” Rachel strokes a thumb back and forth over blushing skin. “Please, just... just this once.”

Quinn’s face leans into her palm. “Are you sure?” Then, she pulls back. Rachel lets her hand fall. “No, god,” Quinn continues, “why am I even considering this?”

“Because you want this too.”

“Rachel…”

“Oh, what, you don’t want me? You’ll fuck Chet, but I’m not good enough for you? Is this just too messed up?” Her voice is laced with bitterness and self-deprecation. “Come on,” Rachel laughs, “don’t kid yourself. You want this too, Quinn.”

Quinn’s eyes flicker up and down Rachel’s face in something like desperation, like a helpless search for sanity. Rachel’s hand finds Quinn’s waist, thumb over sharp hip bone. Quinn holds her breath.

Rachel smirks. “Let’s have some good dirty, dark, and twisted fun, what do you say?” Surprisingly, her voice doesn’t come out as shaky as the feeling in her ribcage would suggest. She pulls Quinn closer. Vodka saturated breath hits her lips. Quinn’s eyes look dark from this close.

“Well, fuck,” Quinn mutters, and Rachel can feel it.

“That’s what I’ve been suggesting,” Rachel replies, brushing the words directly across Quinn’s lips.

Quinn doesn’t move, so Rachel goes all in, pulls Quinn’s body flush against her own and kisses her. And Quinn leans in full force. Her arms sneak around Rachel, and the whole room lights up for a moment. Quinn’s hands come up to cradle Rachel’s face. They pull apart with a shared gasp, stare at each other in stunned silence for what feels like a small eternity.

Finally, a breathless Quinn states, “Wow, you’re really serious about this.”

Rachel grins a shaky grin. To compensate, she untucks the blouse from Quinn’s skirt. “Yes Quinn, now take your shirt off before I rip it.”

“Alright, okay, Jesus, Rachel, fuck,” Quinn mutters in a breathy staccato, skin puckering with trails of goosebumps where Rachel’s hands brush it. They simultaneously fumble with too many buttons until the last remaining two do get ripped, causing a noise of outrage from Quinn and a devilish grin from Rachel.

More clothes pile continuously on the floor of Quinn’s office, the more skin revealed the thicker the air.

They don’t make it to the couch but Rachel manages to maneuver Quinn onto her desk. “God, Quinn,” she whispers into the woman’s neck.

“Yeah...”

“You feel so good,” Rachel gasps behind Quinn’s ear, nips at skin, buries her nose in hair. Quinn’s legs wrap around her.

When Rachel touches Quinn, Quinn lets out a breathless laugh. Rachel wants to be offended but leans back and grins, and when Quinn pulls her into a soft kiss and mumbles,  
“Fuck, you really are good at everything you do, huh,” into the corner of her mouth, Rachel feels like exploding.

“Shut up,” she retorts instead, twisting her hand in a way that has Quinn holding back a scream.

Rachel discovers that the only thing better than watching Quinn bite her lip is being the person doing the biting.

Rachel also discovers that Quinn’s short nails are sharp as they dig into her shoulders, and sharper when they’re dragged down the length of her back while Quinn makes noises Rachel never could’ve dreamed up.

Afterwards, Quinn apologises. It makes Rachel cringe because that wasn’t unpleasant, but then Quinn is turning her around, trailing kisses down Rachel’s back where angry, red marks have appeared.

A sigh escapes Rachel, like this is what true relief feels like. Like coming home.

The tenderness of it all has Rachel choking on air. She starts shaking, and in response, Quinn just touches her more lightly, kisses more gently. Rachel shakes her head to herself, glad to be turned away from Quinn.

“You were right, Quinn,” she whispers. “This is too much.”

Quinn sucks in a surprised breath, leans away from Rachel’s back, grips her arms very tightly for a second, then her hands fall. She sits motionless on her desk as Rachel hurriedly puts her clothes back on.

Rachel avoids looking at Quinn’s half naked form and, without another word, she runs. Out of the corner of her eye she sees tears on Quinn’s face, and Rachel just can’t. She can’t look, she can’t talk. She can’t stay.

**Author's Note:**

> like comment subscribe also part 3 of my other fic is gonna be up soon watch out ladies and gays


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